After getting sidetracked to Ft. Pierce due to weather, we figured we'd better take advantage of one more shot at a full moon overnight passage. Our goal: 30 hrs, Ft Pierce to St. Augustine.
Leaving Ft Pierce on a hazy morning.
The weather was predicted to be SE winds, 10 knots. What we actually got was virtually no wind, and any wisps were coming from the north, right over our bow. Since we are a sailboat, we couldn't resist trying to get the sails up and adjusted, before accepting our fate and settling in for a long day motoring. At least the sky was overcast ... and due to the wildfires burning along the coast, the gray sky was mixed with the smell of smoke. And at least we were 5 miles offshore, so the autopilot could do all the work and we could read or nap or polish the stainless (and we did all 3!).
As we approached Pt Canaveral (the part of E. Florida that bumps out into the ocean), we encountered our first squalls of the day. They showed up well on radar and by adjusting our course to 15 miles off shore, we were able to skirt all the action.
The promise of full-moon sailing went the way of the wind prediction ... due to the heavy smoke haze, there was no moon to be seen until about 3a.m, when a tiny dot of orange appeared. Oh well, at least night cruising gave us wonderfully mild temps in the 70's....and we could look forward to a wind shift by daybreak.
Thursday, June 16
After a 2-hr nap, Dan woke me at 5:00 a.m. with news that something was up ... and not in a good way. We were about 5 miles from Daytona Beach where the the weather forecast was saying current conditions were 5 knots of west wind. Oh, but I beg to differ! We were experiencing 40 knots of NE wind, with swells building 6-8 ft! With no mention of these conditions on any of the forecasts, Dan called the US Coast Guard on the radio to report our conditions and ask for a better forecast. Basically, they told us ... "yeah, conditions are changing. Whatever you do, don't go north to St Augustine and Jacksonville. There is a huge storm moving south and east (yes, that would be right towards us) with heavy rain and lightening."
Hmmm, being that St Augustine was our intended destination, we now looked at the maps with an eye on a bail out port, and the Ponce inlet was our only option. Dan called into Ponce to check on conditions, and since it was 6:00am, he had no luck until our new-best-friend, Capt Paul with SeaTow, picked up one of our calls. He turned on the TV and said: "Oh yeah, there is a massive system barreling down on you. Get into the Ponce inlet as soon as possible." Yeah right ... we are 15 miles offshore, slugging thru 8-ft swells at 5 knots, meaning that we'd get to shore in about 3 hours! Since we weren't looking forward to closing on the coast in the midst of a major blow, we asked Capt Paul if we'd be better off just staying offshore and waiting for the storm to blow by ... his response was: "Well, the cell over your position now should pass in about 30 minutes. However, what you're experiencing now is nothing compared to what's coming your way from further north." Shit! Nothing to do but head west and watch the darkening horizon to the north.
Capt Paul called back every 15 minutes to check on our progress and give us a weather update. Gotta love those tow-boat captains! The ride got quite wild as we turned south, and the now 10-ft swells were behind us, pushing our speed to 9 knots as we rode down the front of the swell. When the swell would rear up behind us, I could see the top of the water over the dinghy (on the davits), and when it rolled on towards shore, it would blot out any view of land. Wow ... who's scared now?
As we approached the Ponce inlet, it became quite obvious that we were running neck-and-neck with the storm pressing down from the north. On our radar screen, we could plot the inlet 4 miles ahead of us and the storm cell 4.5 miles to the north of us. Wow ... how lucky do you feel?
Not so lucky today because the storm hit in full force just as we approached the first set of buoys marking the entrance to the Ponce inlet. Rain, rain, and more torrential rain (I have a new-found appreciation for that word!). Visibility was zero (Where did those buoys go?). The wind continued to howl at 40 knots, and Dan did a masterful job of keeping Maja on her intended course, aiming for buoys we couldn't see, while telling me to make sure he didn't come too close to the jetty (Where's the jetty I asked? It's that line of breakers off our starboard side...). The worse part had to be the lightening. Big bolts of lightening, seeming to land in the water right next to us, with the thunder booming at the same time the lightening flashed. Wow ... everyone's scared now!
Bless his heart, Capt Paul keep checking in with us (and we don't even have SeaTow coverage), and once we got inside the inlet jetty, he told Dan to just stop and wait for the storm to pass. "Drop your anchor if you want ... people will understand..." He was monitoring the storm on TV, and guessed that we had 20 minutes for the cell to pass over us. That was good news for Dan since he couldn't see anything and our depth meter had decided to stop working (did we get hit by lightening? or is all the rain making it impossible for the sounder to get a reading?).
An hour later, we were still doing circles in the inlet, with everything both outside and inside the boat getting a good soaking. About the time Dan's visibility improved, Capt Paul came on the radio and said, "Hold your position, I'm coming out in my boat, and I'll guide you in. No charge. This is a tricky inlet."
I love Captain Paul! And we are definitely signing up for SeaTow! We followed him though the maze of buoys all the way to the fuel dock, where he even came around to catch our lines as Maja danced around in the still-heavy wind. Who feels good now! :)
(sorry, no pictures throughout this entire "adventure" ... Dan was too busy at the helm and I was too busy with the Hail Marys)
After drying out, getting fuel, and checking on all the weather forecasts for the afternoon, it was hard to deny that the sky was now sunny and blue and the wind was a gentle 10-knots from the south. The calm after the storm. "Don't trust the weather; the storms will rebuild this afternoon. Stay on the ICW (intercoastal waterway)" was Capt Paul's advice.
And that's just what we did! Including his recommendation that we stop at the Palm Coast Marina because it's got a pool ... "and you gonna be damn hot and tired after 25 miles on the ICW.") Did I mention that I love Capt Paul?
ICW = path of inland waterways up the Atlantic coast.
ICW = Humanity on one side
ICW = Nature on the other side
ICW is a trade-off on the depth of water under the keel.
And the number of boats you meet along the way. Last nite, we saw one boat, 6 miles away.
Daytona Beach.
Back in the land of high living. An Ice Cream Boat even came out to us!
The Bahamians pay $5.79 for diesel and $1000/mo for RO water...
So, we'll run the ICW tomorrow to St Augustine, where we'll once again check the weather and once again wrestle with the decision ... inside or outside? The inside route on the ICW from St Augustine to Jacksonville is reported to be quite beautiful, only two bridges, but tedious and hot .. while the outside route on the ocean offers the promise of sailing and severe storms .... Decisions. Decisions.
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